


Supernatural Horror

by fromacloset, Sweetie_T



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 31 horrific days, Amnesia, Apparently with a dark side, Basement, Beast - Freeform, Bite, Bleeding, Blind Reader, Cage, Candlelight, Cold, Croatoans, Don't piss off baby, Drabbles, Eyes, F/F, F/M, Gen, Growling, Hovering, I'm actually a very sweet person, Insects, Mask, Missing, Obsession, October Tumblr challenge, Omen - Freeform, Paranoia, Photographs, Poison, Reader inserts, Reader is a fanfic author, Ritual, Sam is your shrink (sort of), Trees, Trespassing, Underage cannibalism, Unintentional Incest, WTF, You get ganked, Zombies, buried, dark and creepy, disgust, forgotten, horror stories, hunger, legend, october writing challenge, passenger, scratches, secret, silent, so twisted, tragic ending, whisper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-07 14:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 12,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12234309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromacloset/pseuds/fromacloset, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetie_T/pseuds/Sweetie_T
Summary: Horror drabbles each starring you and one or more Supernatural characters. These are not fluffy!NO HAPPY ENDINGS (I usually insist on writing sweet, fluffy, happy, satisfying endings. These stories will not have any of that.)Some AU, some graphic, some just creepy. One every day during the month of October.Enjoy!





	1. Poisoned- Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Borrowed this challenge from Tumblr. (By horrificmemes)
> 
> 31 Horrific Days v2 [October Writing Challenge]  
> Here is a Version 2 of the earlier October Writing Challenge, with one prompt per day for the month of October. This time around, the prompts are vague and open to a ton of interpretation
> 
> 1 Poisoned- Dean  
> 2 Cage- Sam  
> 3 Insects- Charlie  
> 4 Buried- Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby  
> 5 Trees- John  
> 6 Photographs- Castiel  
> 7 Trespassing- Sam, Dean  
> 8 Basement- Lucifer  
> 9 Eyes- Bobby  
> 10 Growling- Jo  
> 11 Obsession- Chuck  
> 12 Passenger- Baby  
> 13 Disgust- Sam  
> 14 Omen- Chuck  
> 15 Bite- Lucifer, Lilith  
> 16 Paranoia- Sam, Dean  
> 17 Scratching- Crowley  
> 18 Mask- Dean, John  
> 19 Hovering- Charlie  
> 20 Silent- Death  
> 21 Secret- Jo  
> 22 Hunger- Sam  
> 23 Forgotten- Castiel  
> 24 Candlelight- Jody  
> 25 Whisper- Lucifer  
> 26 Cold- John  
> 27 Legend- Castiel  
> 28 Missing- Gabriel, everyone  
> 29 Bleeding- Dean  
> 30 Beast- Chuck  
> 31 Ritual

"You know how much I love you, right?" Dean asked, his voice tight.

You glanced up, your mouth crammed with apple pie. He was being so weird tonight.

Dean himself had baked the pie for dessert, something he had never done before. You had given him a beaming grin when you saw how delicious it looked. But, now that you thought about it, he hadn't smiled back. He hadn't smiled all day, actually. Something had to be wrong.

Swallowing another mouthful of sweet pastry, you felt your stomach sink.

"Dean, what is it?" You asked, your throat closing with fear.

It was almost as if your question gave him permission to let go of the flood of emotions he was guarding so closely. His jaw clenched and tears started streaming down his face. "I love you so damn much, Y/N."

Your heart twinged with... Wait... Your stomach was twinging now too. And your head.

"I don't feel so..." Before you could complete your thought your stomach twisted inside out and what felt like a gallon of blood bubbled out from between your lips. Your vomiting paused just long enough for you to gasp his name.

He held you, his shirt getting soaked with all the blood that was escaping your body. Now your nose was bleeding, your eyes, your gums. Your stomach was still rebelling, this time from both ends.

Dean held you close, cradled gently to his chest.

The last thing you heard before the sweet embrace of death finally claimed you was your true love whispering...

"Please forgive me, Y/N... I had no choice..."


	2. Cage- Sam

It was your anniversary. You had officially been with Sam a full year now.

You still remembered your first date.

You had been so excited. The sexy, sweet bartender from work that you had been crushing on for months had finally asked you to dinner. You spent ages on your makeup, got your hair done, bought a new dress.

He brought you your favorite flowers. You had Italian at a nice restaurant and afterwards you both kicked off your shoes and slow danced in his living room to Sinatra.

He held you close and smiled disarmingly at you and when he said he would never let you go you thought it was the most romantic thing you had ever heard.

If only you had known what he really meant. You would have never had that last glass of wine. You wouldn't have lost consciousness and woken up here, in his basement, your new home a wire cage barely big enough for you to turn around in.

You heard the front door open. You heard their voices and you knew what was coming. He put on Sinatra.

And the worst part was how excited you were. You felt bad, of course, but your lonely heart ached for this.

You heard the faint clink of wine glasses and gazed fondly at where your anniversary present sat.

On the wall directly across from you, the brand new cage, open wide and waiting for her.


	3. Insects- Charlie

Your big sister trembled as she held you close. Everyone else was already dead. Everyone.

You held her tight.

"It's okay, sis." You said, half-heartedly.

"How is this okay? We're about to be... to be..." She couldn't bring herself to finish.

You both knew what was coming. You had watched everyone you loved succumb, one by one. It was too horrific to even think about.

You could hear them pressing against the door to the closet. The last space on earth that was not overrun.

Suddenly Charlie stopped trembling. "We're really not getting out of this one, are we?" She whispered.

You shook your head, hot silent tears streaming down your face. Your sister sat up and dug in her bag. She had nearly forgotten the gun was there, it was useless against them, after all.

She smiled sadly. "We're not dying like that."

You nodded, catching on and totally on board with her plan. She checked and there were exactly two bullets left. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"You first." You said quickly before she could make the decision herself.

She shook her head at you. "No, Y/N..."

You put a hand on her red hair. "You've protected me for months. I'm not going to let you watch me die now."

She closed her eyes and nodded, the tears slipping down her face now too.

She looked at you, her brown eyes deadly serious. "Close your eyes and plug your ears. Take care of yourself right after." She pressed her forehead to yours for an instant and then turned to the door, screaming, "Peace, Out, Bitches!"

You closed your eyes and plugged your ears. When it was over you reached for the gun. The first few were now inside and you started to panic. You took a deep breath, put the weapon to your temple, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. 

You tried again and again before furiously throwing the gun to the ground. You clung helplessly to your sister's lifeless corpse.

It took you hours of agony to die. The very last human on earth. Slowly eaten alive by ants.


	4. Buried- Dean, Sam, Castiel, Bobby

You had always hated burials. It just seemed so wrong, covering someone up with tons of dirt. Cruel, somehow. Even if the person were dead.

You stood next to Bobby and tried not to fidget. Whose funeral was this, again? You couldn't remember. They seemed never ending these days.

Castiel was muttering something over the casket. Sam and Dean were trying not to cry. Obviously the decedent was someone special to everyone. Was it Garth? Jody?

Your pondering was interrupted by the guys lining up with... was that your favorite flower? Huh. Small world. They each tossed one in and spent a moment saying goodbye.

As your turn approached you began to feel self-conscious. You didn't have a flower for the mystery corpse.

Bobby was in front of you and as he finished up his goodbyes and tossed the flower in you took your place beside the casket.

You looked inside and caught a glimpse of your favorite dress, of all things, before glancing up... at your own dead face.

 

You gasped and woke in the darkness, relief flooding you. What an awful nightmare.

And then you heard it... a shovelful of dirt landing on the lid of your coffin.


	5. Trees- John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was so hard to write! I grew up in the PNW so trees have always meant home and comfort. Figured something out just in time! Enjoy! ❤️❤️❤️

John had suggested the Pacific Northwest. It was a rainforest, he said. A temperate rainforest, with all the food, shelter and clean water a person could want. You just had to know how to get it. You had found some gas and a clear stretch of road, almost like a divine hand was guiding you. That's how you ended up here, somewhere deep in the middle of the Oregon woods.

You had met John months ago by chance, he had saved you from a Croat that had cornered you while you were on a supply run. Knocked his head clean off with a razor-wire baseball bat.

You were stuck to him like glue ever since. You made your way together all the way from Kansas, hitchhiking, stealing food, siphoning gas and hot wiring cars... These were desperate times, you did what you had to.

The first time you saw the forest you thought you were in a storybook. The thick, endless trees, threaded with rushing rivers and trickling streams, bushes loaded with berries, prey everywhere you looked. And, best part of all, no Croats.

The two of you had built a small shelter, hunted, cooked your food. Lived in peace for the first time since you could remember. You should have known it was too good to be true.

Before you knew it they were there. The victims of the Croatoan virus. Thankfully it was autumn and the underbrush was brittle so their footsteps gave you advanced notice of their arrival.

John helped you up a tree and he followed. And you two perched for two days in the refuge of the trees, watching them destroy your camp and the life you had made before finally losing interest and moving on.

This strategy had worked wonderfully, the canopy of the trees sheltering you countless times until five days ago. It had snowed overnight and when you woke they were already upon you, their footsteps muffled in the dark. John had helped you up a giant pine and then he succumbed beneath a crowd of teeth and claws.

And now he gazed up at you, desperately, longingly. His infected eyes enraged and shot through, his skin drawn and sallow. You barely recognized him as your brave protector from only days before.

And suddenly the trees, having been your refuge, your salvation, your promise of hope had turned sharp and cold. A prison of frosty branches and brittle needles. A world of desolate bounty, of lush famine.

Your heart shattered as you felt yourself reach your limits. You were starving. You were exhausted. And you were desperately homesick for a world that could never exist again.

It seemed the trees had one last role to play... 

They would now serve as your tomb.


	6. Photographs- Castiel

Ever since you were born you had an angel on your shoulder. At least that was what your grandmother had called it. In every picture ever taken of you there was a blur of light just over your shoulder.

Friends of yours who noticed thought it was creepy, but you never got a bad feeling from the images. You actually started praying to your angel now and then when things would get bad.

You never imagined you'd actually meet him. But one day you were mugged on the way home, and the perp didn't want your money. He wanted to hurt you.

You prayed more frantically than ever before and when you opened your eyes there he was... Castiel, your guardian angel.

You were instantly besotted with him, and him with you. He said he 'intended to court you' and you began a sweet, slow relationship that, while less physical than you were used to, was more intense than anything you had ever known.

He took you to dinner, to the movies, to concerts and museums and dancing. It was a whirlwind romance and you felt yourself falling for him. Hard.

He took you to the Golden Gate Bridge and wrapped you, warm in his coat against the wind. A very nice old lady offered to take your picture, and you gave her your phone to do so.

After a long day of wandering the wharf and riding trolley cars you were finally unwinding in the hotel room. You were perusing the photos on your phone and you stopped on the one of you and Cas, your very first together. Your brow crinkled at the smudge of light above your shoulder.

"Cas... can you look at this for me?" He moved from his twin bed to yours.

You showed him the photo and indicated the light above your shoulder. He visibly paled.

"It's always been there. I just assumed it was you." You said, puzzled before realizing he was completely terrified. You had never seen anything make him react like that. "What's wrong, Castiel?"

He focused intently on something over your shoulder, his eyes more horrified than you had ever seen. "That mark was never me. It was always him."

The last sound you would ever hear was the snarl of the creature from your recurring childhood nightmares, coming from just over your shoulder.


	7. Trespassing- Sam and Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im really sorry, this one turned out to have a (kinda) happy ending. But you still die! :-)

You woke up in your bed to sounds in your house. Voices. Two men, murmuring indistinctly from the direction of your living room. You crept down the stairs and you saw them, one very tall with long brown hair, the other shorter but still much bigger than you. They were holding guns.

You screamed at them- how dare they come into your house and threaten you with guns? You made a movement toward them and the shorter one shot you.

...

You woke up in your bed to sounds in your house. Frantic sounds, panicked voices. You came down the stairs. Two men, one very tall and one very angry. They were in your house! This was YOUR house. You ran toward them and slammed into a wall where there was no wall. You looked down to see a line of salt at your feet. The taller man swung a crowbar at you, you braced for impact.

...

You woke up in your bed to sounds in your house. Two gruff voices, nearly yelling at one another. You stomped down the stairs, angry at their audacity. How dare they come into your house? The taller man held a crowbar. The shorter man was pouring a jar of ashes into your fireplace. Your locket fell out of the jar. Your favorite locket. You'd worn it every day of your life. Every day until...

The man tossed in a match and the fire whooshed to life.

...

You woke up in your bed to sounds in your house. The sounds of your children. You ran down the stairs. They fell into your arms. You were home again at last.


	8. Basement- Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am twisted.  
> Carry on.

Luc was the sweetest, most gentle man you had ever met. He made you laugh and he cuddled you when you were sick. You always caught him gazing at you like you were his whole world. He tried not to argue with you and he had never raised his voice to you... except once.

When you first moved in he warned you never to go in the basement. It was your very first clue something was not quite right. Truthfully, you kind of thought he was kidding.

And then one day a fuse blew and you offered to fix it. And suddenly your husband was a different person, a monster. "I fucking TOLD you, you don't EVER go down there. You understand me, Y/N?" You gaped at him in shock, his voice booming and angry, you had never heard it like that before.

That night he had apologized to you, and had made sweet, gentle love to you for hours. He had even cried a little, ashamed that he had frightened you. But he still told you the basement was off limits.

You thought it was weird but you let it go. Luc had acted like his perfectly sweet, gentle, normal self ever since.

And then one evening he was staying late at work. You turned off the ever-present old show tunes he seemed to love (he even played them at night) and were reading and enjoying the silence. Until it wasn't so silent anymore.

"Hello?" A voice, faint, terrified and drifting from the heating register. You thought you were imagining it until you heard it again. "Hello? Please! Help me, please..."

Your blood ran cold as you realized... that voice was coming from the basement. Tears sprang to your eyes. Your husband was not who you thought he was. The funny, generous, kind and loving man you had decided to share your life with was...

"Please! I know he's gone, please... God, help me..." The voice began to weep hysterically.

You were frozen with grief. How could you have been so blind? Why didn't you push the issue harder and go downstairs months ago? Maybe then you would have found out in time. Found out before...

You allowed yourself a single shuddering sob, just one. Before flicking the music back on and returning to the magazine resting on your tremendously swollen belly, reading an article about the best toys for baby, an age-by-age guide.


	9. Eyes- Bobby

You had your father's eyes. Everyone who had known Bobby before he died said so. You could even see it yourself. Whenever you looked in the mirror you could see him looking back at you. Ever the hero, the gentle protector, the crusader of all things righteous.

You fucking hated it.

You had your father's eyes. But you had your mother's cold demon heart. Sometimes it was almost funny, your victims trusted you instantly and all it took was flashing them your charming green Bobby gaze. They were always shocked when you started cutting them up.

Just like your father had been when you started on him.

You had your father's eyes, alright. You kept them, sealed tight and marinating, in a jar of embalming fluid on your nightstand, right next to your lamp. 

Your favorite trophy from your very first kill.


	10. Growling- Jo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of subtle. I think this scenario would be terrifying.

Jo said she would be right back. She knew you were afraid of the storm. It wasn't that the power had gone out and everything was dark, that never bothered you. You couldn't tell the difference anyway. It was that you couldn't hear what was around you.

You buried your fingers in the soft scruff of your German shepherd Ash. He was the most docile creature you had ever known. You had never heard him bark unless he was warning you to pay attention. He had never, ever since you got him when he was a year and a half old, growled. He was vigilant on duty, taking his role as your eyes very seriously. And off duty he was just a big teddy bear.

Jo had loved him the instant you brought him home. Very often he would end up in bed between you at night. You enjoyed cuddling your girlfriend but you could never agree on who got to be the middle spoon, you both wanted to cuddle Ash. So most of the time he got the middle.

Speaking of Jo... She had said she would be right back. She was running out to the local pizza place for dinner. It wasn't far, she should have been back an hour ago. The thunder crashed and the rain pounded. Your mind began playing tricks on you. You could have sworn you heard footsteps, and you could almost smell melted cheese and pepperoni.

But if Jo had come back she would have said she was home. And Ash would have run to greet her, or at least his tail would have wagged. Instead he was pressed tight to your leg, you could have sworn he was even shivering a bit. It must be the storm, it made everything seem ominous.

And then you smelled her. Wood polish and gun powder. Unmistakably Jo. Her scent wafted, strong from behind you.

Your hands on Ash' fur began vibrating. Through the clamor of the storm it took you a moment before you realized what was happening...

For the first time in his entire life... your guide dog was growling.


	11. Obsession- Chuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away from me, it's pretty long. Also, the ending is creepy but not totally horrible.
> 
> This chapter dedicated to fromacloset❤️!

Chuck was the sweetest, hottest, funniest guy you'd ever met. For months since you started at your job he had been the object of your every waking fantasy, your every dream. You spent an obscene amount of time imagining how his scruffy face would feel on various parts of your naked body. Just the thought of his impossibly blue eyes could make your heart race.

So when he asked you to dinner one Friday afternoon he had to repeat himself twice before you realized you weren't dreaming this time. He was asking you out! You eventually pieced together a string of words that he correctly interpreted to mean "Hell to the YES!" You made plans to meet the following evening at a restaurant that turned out to be a mutual favorite.

You spent all morning getting ready, starting over, getting ready again until you finally ended up in your original outfit. You were so nervous you were afraid you might throw up.

You walked down to the restaurant a bit early, too excited to stay home another minute. To your surprise, he was already there! His eyes crinkled as his face split into a grin and your knees felt wobbly as you joined him at the table. He pulled out a chair for you and scooted you in.

"Y/N... I, uh... I have to say, I'm really happy you said yes... Or, whatever that was you mumbled that meant yes." He fidgeted some with his napkin. God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

You smiled at him and sipped your drink. You didn't remember ordering it, but it was your favorite. "To tell you the truth... I've been hoping you would ask me for months." You could feel your face flush with your confession.

He looked down at his hands and smiled before bringing his gaze back up to yours. You could feel your breath catch as his blue eyes stared deeply into your own.

The moment was interrupted with the server bringing your food. You knew you definitely did NOT order any food, you would have remembered. But it was strangely your favorite dish, just the way you liked it prepared.

You thought this was odd but then Chuck got a spot of mustard on his beard and blushed adorably when you used your napkin to wipe it off and you completely forgot to question it.

The evening went perfectly. Chuck was a bit flustered now and then but he was passionate and intelligent and when you got him going on certain subjects he was eloquent and compelling. You couldn't really recall anything you had said, but you hoped he held you in the same regard.

 

He walked you back toward your house and stopped at the neighboring building, inviting you up to his place. You were neighbors! You were so excited. You said something about having breakfast together and you and Chuck both blushed charmingly at the unintended double entendre.

When he let you into his cozy apartment you saw his living room window faced yours. Tonight was just one delightful coincidence after another. He brought you a glass of your favorite alcoholic beverage, and turned on your favorite romantic music. You had to pinch yourself when his back was turned to make sure you still weren't dreaming.

 

Turns out his scruff felt amazing over every inch of you. So did his fingers and tongue and... other parts of him. By the time you two fell asleep you had 'christened' every surface of his bathroom, kitchen, living room and bedroom.

You woke up in the morning to sounds of him in the shower, singing your favorite love song at the top of his voice. God, could he be more adorable?

You weren't really sure where your clothes had ended up last night, so you decided to put on one of his work shirts, planning on buttoning it strategically so you could hopefully entice him into round two... Or, actually... round five.

You opened the door to his closet and the room began to spin around you. Were you dreaming again? For an instant you thought there was a mirror in his closet, but you weren't wearing that dress right now. You weren't wearing anything. And then you realized it was a large photo of yourself surrounded by dozens of smaller ones. Your school photos, every year since kindergarten. Your driver's license photos, all of them. The mugshot from the one time you were arrested during a peaceful protest. Snapshots of you in your car, ordering coffee, at the grocery store, talking to your neighbor, kissing a date last New Year's, wrapped in a towel after a shower.

You looked down and recognized several items you had thrown out over the last year. A broken mug, an old toothbrush, a used cardboard coffee cup with a lipstick stain on it, old magazines, receipts, grocery lists, empty tubes of deodorant.

And then there were the notebooks. Each labeled with a date. You opened the latest one at random and suddenly you were reading a detailed account of your morning routine one Thursday.

A hand touched your naked shoulder, and a bearded mouth nuzzled your neck. "So..." He chuckled nervously. "You found my secret..." He swallowed audibly. "Uhm... What do you think?"

You turned in his arms and looked at him.

A little smirk ghosted over your lips as you thought about the closet in your bedroom, filled with pictures of him.

You put your arms around his shoulders. "Not bad... I can't wait to show you mine."


	12. Passenger- Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean too, for like a paragraph.

The guy was a moron, just like the rest. He had spent all night staring at your boobs and when he finally got you back to his sweet ride and was working on unlocking her it was ridiculously easy to find a big rock and smash his skull in. Now she was yours, keys and all.

The plan was to run her through her paces before swinging back to your neighborhood to have her stripped for parts and score enough cash to keep you flying for days.

Apparently, she had other ideas.

She ran like a dream until you had her wide open on the highway. You were seeing how hard you could push her and you had her up to 120 when she decided to slam on her brakes and spin out. You weren't an idiot, you fastened the belt when you got in, but for some reason it picked that moment to come unhooked.

 

You came to, wiping the blood out of your face, your skull pounding and the window next to your head busted up, but still solid. You buckled up again and decided you'd had enough fun for one evening. Either you were more wasted than you thought or this damn car was haunted.

You drove her careful now, headed back to your neighborhood. You slowed to stop at a red light... but all of a sudden she was gunning it through. You narrowly missed being creamed by a delivery truck. You smashed on the brakes and she didn't respond, she just kept going faster. Soon you weren't even steering her anymore, she was steering herself.

She took the corners hard enough to bruise your bones, she ran all the lights and signs. All you could do was hang on for the ride. She was in control, you were just her passenger.

Her brakes slammed as your buckle came undone again and you kissed the windshield at speed. You felt your nose and cheekbone shatter. When you regained consciousness again you realized where she parked you, trapped, doors stuck fast.

Right in front of a police station.


	13. Disgust- Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a challenge to write (guess that's why it's called a 'writing challenge'). Everything I was coming up with was either a poor man's version of "You're eating maggots, Michael" or basically stepping in dog poop, slapstick style.
> 
> And then this came to me. One of my biggest fears, drawn to its extreme. Hope it translates for non-writers too!

As a writer of fanfic you take risks every day. You put your ideas out there, little pieces of your soul, and your most desperate hope is that someone... anyone... will see corresponding pieces of their soul in your words, and maybe leave comments to that effect. There is something powerful about that connection, anonymous as it may be. It gives you a profound sense of belonging in the world. It validates you as nothing else can.

But every time you hit the button to post something there is also a very real feeling of fear. What if this is the one corner of your soul that is so dark no one else will understand? What if this story is too much for the world? What if, like you'd always kind of suspected, there is a little part of you so deviant no one could ever accept it?

Which is how you came to be sitting here, across from your therapist, dressed in hospital issue pajamas and slippers. The whole experience has broken something inside you. You see the doctor as one of your characters. Sam looks at you, his ever-present 'sympathetic' visage cracking just a bit around the edges as he holds your file in his hands.

You know what's in the file. It's a copy of your story. THE story. The one that was always inside you but should never have been written. Certainly never, ever posted.

Sam swallows heavily and looks at you. "So... I read your story again..." He visibly has to contain his gag reflex, slipping a vial of peppermint essential oil under his nose and taking a few deep breaths. "Did you read it again, like I asked you to?"

"Yes, Sam."

He rolls his eyes at you, his strong jaw clenching for an instant, his professional demeanor slipping slightly, frustrated. He's told you hundreds of times. "My name is Dr. Smith, Y/N. Sam is a fictional character."

You nod. "Of course, I'm sorry, Dr. Winchester."

He breathes heavily out of his nose but lets it go. "I'm assuming you still enjoyed your story? It's not... disturbing to you?"

You shake your head and shrug. "I like it. That's why I wrote it."

"You do realize because of that story the entire fanfic website was shut down? Your family was brought in for questioning, all of your belongings were seized. Everyone who read it is in some form of therapy, some people are non-verbal, one man clawed his own eyes out, a woman threw up so much she choked to death. And as for yourself, you are now a permanent inmate here. And you still see nothing at all wrong with what you wrote?"

You stay silent for a while. You let him think you're contemplating and possibly regretting the outcome of your actions, but you're actually sitting there, right in front of your delusion-wrapped court-mandated therapist...

Thinking about writing a sequel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday the 13th!


	14. Omen- Chuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mom always says this is how she thinks she's going to die. I come by my quirkiness honestly.
> 
> Not really super creepy, but tomorrow's should more than make up for that!

"You aren't taking this seriously, Y/N. I saw it. I wrote it down. It's going to happen." Chuck said, his tone almost desperate.

You rolled your eyes at your friend. "Right. What, are we in 'The Omen'?"

He sighed heavily and set his coffee down with just a bit too much force, a little drip flew out of the spout on the lid and landed on the table.

"You need to listen to me. This has happened before. I've never been wrong. Please just read it." He pushed the folder toward you again.

"If it's really that awful and I can't change it, why would I want to read it?" You pushed the folder back toward him and gathered your stuff to leave. "I care about you, Chuck. I really do. Please go get some help."

With that you turned and walked out of his life.

At first he would text you dozens of times a day, sometimes the messages would be his full story, written out in text format. You never read them, you deleted them all. It broke your heart, your intelligent, funny, sweet friend obviously so deeply troubled.

Gradually the volume of texts lessened, and so did their verbosity. Eventually he would send you just one short text a day, and the content was like a knife to your heart. All the texts ever said was "Milk and Cookies". He had officially lost his mind.

Months went by. You went on with your life. You got a new job, a boyfriend. Things were good, though you missed your friend. With his daily texts you couldn't help but wonder about him all the time. Was he doing alright? Was he in a hospital somewhere? Was he at least seeking treatment for his delusions?

You were walking back to work after a romantic lunch with your boyfriend. You were almost giddy. He had asked you to move in with him. You were envisioning how you would add your touch to his apartment when your phone sounded. You checked the text, thinking it might be him.

You didn't notice the walk light at the busy intersection was red. You didn't see the trucks swerve, trying to miss you but only succeeding in jack knifing and slamming together, you caught between them.

The last thing you ever saw was your daily text from Chuck, "Milk and Cookies" before being violently sandwiched between a dairy truck and a Little Debbie truck.


	15. Bite- Lucifer, Lilith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is something wrong with my brain.  
> You're welcome!

You had been casually dating Luce for weeks now. He would always take you to a very nice dinner, and then drive you home.

It all started with an innocent goodnight kiss. You went to pull away and he bit your bottom lip, almost hard enough to break the skin. You had shivered and moaned and melted under his touch. And that was the moment both of you discovered your shared biting kink.

Since then it had progressed. He always left you with bite marks to your neck, shoulders, collar bone. But you had a roommate and he had a daughter, so your escapades were limited to his car.

Until one night, after dinner. He had just bitten your shoulder hard enough to draw blood and you had nearly climaxed just from that. He pulled back from you, dragging his stubble over your skin, pupils blown, lips red, breath coming in gasps. He was so fucking beautiful.

He licked his lips and his mouth curled in a smile. "Come home with me. Tomorrow. Let me make you dinner."

You blushed. "What about Lily?"

He kissed your mouth briefly. "I think it's time."

You gazed into each other's eyes and shared a grin.

\---

The next night you put on the nicest dress you owned. You were slightly uncomfortable with how it showed off your scars and bruises from your bites, so you slipped on a shrug to cover most of them. You couldn't remember ever being more nervous.

Luce picked you up and drove you to his house. He noticed how fidgety you were, so he brought your hand up to his mouth, sinking his teeth into the fleshy part at the base of your thumb, his eyes holding fast to yours as he left his mark. You shivered pleasantly and sighed happily.

He smirked at you, licking his lips. "Lily is gonna love you, baby."

You smiled, feeling much better and walked into his house with him, his large, rough hand holding your bruised one.

You were greeted cordially by his daughter, a little girl around eight years old with long blonde ringlets and a frilly white dress. She seemed incredibly excited to see you. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Y/N! I'm so happy you're here for dinner!"

You smiled. "Thank you so much, Lily. I'm very excited to be here."

You made yourself comfortable and were puzzled when you noticed the table wasn't set and when you didn't smell any yummy cooking smells coming from the kitchen.

Before you could contemplate it for too long, though, Luce grinned. "Time for dinner."

You felt something smash into your skull as, from behind you, Lily hit you astoundingly hard with a cast iron skillet.

You woke up to Luce cinching the ropes around your wrists and ankles a little tighter. You were naked and spread eagle on the table. You struggled a bit, but your bonds were secure.

"She's awake, Daddy!" Lily's excited voice peeped up.

"Oh good, pumpkin. And you were worried we'd have to start without her." He finished with the ropes, stood up and grinned lovingly at you. "You ready for dinner, baby?"

 

As they began eating you, you realized what "Let me make you dinner" had meant. You were literally dinner.

On the plus side, with every bite to your flesh you were lost in an explosion of ecstasy.

You didn't survive the meal, of course. But you died with a smile on what was left of your face.


	16. Paranoia- Sam & Dean

You woke up on the kitchen floor. Dean was kneeling over you, trying to get you to open your eyes. Your lids fluttered open. You looked at your twin brother... Only he wasn't your brother anymore.

"Who the fuck are you?" You scrambled away from him, frantic.

He held up his hands, palms toward you, trying not to spook you any more than you already were. "Y/N, it's me, Dean. I'm your brother."

You shook your head frantically. "You're not! You look like him but you're not him. What have you done with him?"

Sam came in then. But he wasn't your brother either. "Y/N! You're awake! You hit your head pretty hard, you ok?" He took a step toward you and you shrieked. He stopped and looked at Dean.

Dean shrugged. "She says I'm not me. She's terrified."

Sam's whole face crinkled with concern. "Y/N... We're your brothers. We love you. We're not going to hurt you."

"You are not my brothers! What have you done with them? Are you demons? Shifters? Angels?" You curled into a tiny ball.

The guys spent hours unsuccessfully trying to get you to calm down until finally they had to regroup. They sat at the table, speaking quietly to one another. You knew they were talking about you. Probably plotting how to kill you. They would glance at you once in a while. That was proof. They were going to murder you, any minute now. These men were not your brothers. These men had done something to your brothers. And you were next.

You stood slowly, fully aware that whatever these creatures were they were no doubt much faster and stronger than you were. But you had to try. You opened the silverware drawer and grabbed a large butcher knife. It wasn't silver so it probably wouldn't hurt them, but it might slow them down enough for you to find your real brothers. Whatever was left of them.

You ran at them and to your complete shock you caught them off guard. You stabbed 'Sam' first, right in the neck. 'Dean' you stabbed in the chest. Maybe the knife had some silver in it, they clung to their spurting injuries as if they were dying.

You took off running through the house, slamming open doors and screaming their names. You prayed you weren't too late.

You flung open the door to your bedroom and you came face to face... With yourself.

Rage flashed in her eyes, the you that was not you. And in your stunned state she got the upper hand. She had a blade of pure silver and it flashed as she cut you, shallow across the chest.

The wound burned like the devil and it made you howl and begin to lose cohesion... Wait, what? Your skin sloughed off and you took your original form. It all came back to you.

You had been right. They hadn't been your brothers. They had been hers. You were just walking in her skin, linked with her mind. You had believed they were the monsters but it was you all along. And now your beloved Sam and Dean were in the kitchen dead or dying, right this moment, killed by your own hand.

You opened your arms wide and let her stab you, her silver blade buried deep in your broken heart.


	17. Scratching- Crowley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Crowley!!! ❤️

You opened your eyes. Had you just woken up? It didn't matter. You were vaguely aware that you had existed... elsewhere... at some time in the distant past. But it didn't feel real. Had it been millennia ago? Yesterday? That didn't matter either. You were here now. Here and now. It's all there ever was.

You closed your eyes again. At least there was just enough light to tell the difference between open and shut. The light was enough that, once a day, maybe more and maybe less, you found a small basin to wash in, a simple toilet, food. But mostly you existed in your tiny bed.

No one ever hurt you or tormented you but a part of you wished someone would. The profound solitude was... disturbing. Sometimes you wondered if there was anyone else. Had there ever been? Perhaps in this universe you were utterly alone. It displeased you to ponder this. You always felt a pain in your chest and wet on your cheeks. These were the times you would seek out the basin, the toilet, the food. Anything to act as a distraction.

Your eyes were open when you heard the sound and saw the light. The sound was faint and the light so subtle that for a while you thought the changes were in your mind. And then there was the voice.

"Hello, Darling." You sat up straight. It was the most beautiful sound there had ever been. It was close and warm and real. And most of all, it meant your solitude was at an end. You believed you were now in heaven. Even if you never heard it again, the sound had been a gift. One you would cling to. One you would treasure for eternity.

And then heaven fell blissfully away. And it was replaced with paradise. A soft touch on your cheek. A weight on your tiny mattress. A prickly texture on your shoulder. A feathering breath down your arm. A warm wet on the inside of your elbow.

And more. So much more. Intense and heavy and white hot. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. The breath tearing through your lungs. A weight on your hips. A delicious pressure between your thighs. An explosion of sensation. A validation of your very existence.

And then... the voice... "I couldn't resist. Now back to your hell, Darling." A prickly kiss to your neck. "You won't remember me in the morning."

And he was gone. Your anchor. Your salvation. And soon even his memory would be lost to you.

A desperate flash of inspiration. You would use your nails to scratch a reminder to yourself, a tiny disturbance in the seamless torment that was your world. Somewhere hidden.

You reached behind your mattress, intending to scratch a mark on the underside of your headboard. It took you a while to find an open space.

There were already scratches.

Hundreds and hundreds of them.


	18. Mask- Dean, John

You stood like a bored statue in the corner of the room, easily ignoring the prattle of your brother and his lame friends.

This party was so crowded! You rolled your eyes at the cliché costumes. Especially the couples costumes. Prisoner and cop. Angel and devil. Iron Man and... Wait, what? You smiled slowly. It just so happened that you were dressed up as a sexy female Captain America. Maybe couples costumes weren't so bad after all.

You sidled up to him and ran your fingers down his arm. To your surprise, the red and gold suit was unpadded fabric. The muscles were all his. And before you knew it his muscled arm was strong around your waist.

You were glad you had consumed enough alcohol to be pleasantly buzzed. Tonight was special. You were finally going to get your V-card punched! You pulled him in the direction opposite your brother. You knew if Dean saw you leaving with a guy he would try and stop you. So you made sure he didn't see you.

You dragged Iron Man down a short hallway and into the first door you came to. It was an office. Perfect! He crowded you with his muscular frame, pressing you backwards until your ass bumped into the desk. He reached behind you and swept it clear, grabbing your hips and sitting you on the solid oak, positioning himself between your thighs.

You smiled up at him. "You gonna leave the mask on?" He didn't say anything, just nodded. You smiled wider. "I like it."

His hands trailed up your thighs and he tore off your underwear, slipping them into a pocket of his costume. In moments his fingers had you wet and ready and the two of you noisily brought each other higher and higher and finally found your release, exploding together. You hadn't even considered protection.

A giggle from outside the door, Marilyn Monroe and your brother burst in, dressed like Indiana Jones. You tried to scramble to cover yourself but Iron Man held you still, open and exposed. "Dean! Get out!"

The color drained from his face as he saw you. You were confused. You were expecting protectiveness, indignation, disgust. Not abject horror.

And then he spoke, forcing his voice to work. "...Dad..."

You couldn't breathe. You looked up at Iron Man as he pulled off his mask. He could have been Tony Stark. Piercing eyes, dark messy hair, scruffy face. But he wasn't Tony. He was John. Your father. And he wasn't surprised or shocked or ashamed.

He was grinning at you.

And then he winked.


	19. Hovering- Charlie

"Are they still there?" Your best friend asked sympathetically just before sipping her coffee. Charlie was awesome. Badass and open minded. That's why she was the only person you ever told. She was always supportive and she was the only one who was there for you after things changed.

Ever since you were born you were able to see souls. Your earliest memory was when you were three years old. You were sitting with your grandma, playing pat-a-cake. Your mother came in and panicked. She grabbed you and tore you away from your comatose grandmother. You waved bye-bye as your grandma's soul drifted away. She gave you a content smile and waved back, blowing you a kiss.

You grew up choosing your friends and boyfriends based on the beauty of their souls. You avoided people with dark, angry or cruel spirits. And you went out of your way to befriend those with broken souls, sharing a bit of your light with them. You were never in danger of running out, the more light you shared the brighter your soul became.

And then when you were in high school a friend of yours got sick. Really sick. You visited them in the hospital every day. Until one day they gave you a tiny smile, closed their eyes, and their soul drifted away. Their spirit's face was so very at peace, and they smiled at you as they floated up.

This was why you weren't afraid of dying. You saw what it was like and it was beautiful. You got your CNA license and got a job in hospice. It was a perfect fit for you. You were at peace around the dying and you made them feel at peace. It was a beautiful sight, watching the tormented and diseased souls take flight, shed their sadness and light up with joy as they drifted up to the heavens.

But about six months ago something disturbing happened that changed everything. A very sweet old lady died while you held her hand, telling her about what joy awaited her. Her soul began to drift... And then it stopped, hovering over her body.

It happened twice more that day, and you were so upset you quit right then. Since then you walked around staring at the ground, knowing if you looked up you would see them, the souls, hovering thick as fog, more and more every day.

For the first time in your life death terrified you. It was no longer a joyful thing.

The hovering souls, all of them, without exception... were screaming.


	20. Silent- Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the scene with Dean and Death in Chicago, where Death talks about reaping god.
> 
> Assuming each inhabited world has its own god, and you're one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not creepy or scary as much as frikking sad. I'm in a very sad mood. Take it or leave it.
> 
> Back to your regularly scheduled freaky stuff tomorrow! :-P

He came for you last. You weren't afraid and he wasn't in a hurry. You were ready and he was tired.

He sat beside you on the silent beach, the sea was still and the wind was calm. Everything had long stopped moving. The twin suns had gone cold eons ago. Your children had all perished. And now you held sway over a dead, cold rock. You had been waiting for him. You greeted him like an old friend. Your oldest friend.

"What do you miss the most?" He queried in his quiet voice, his curiosity vague. You knew this was nothing new for him. He had seen gods born and he had gathered them at their time of death. He had seen universes created and had single-handedly carried them back to the womb of nothingness.

You touched the frozen sand and remembered.

"There were birds... All kinds. And insects. Children babbling. Words of love whispered in the dark..."

You closed your eyes.

"The ocean tides and the hush of snow falling on snow in the winter. The crackle of a fire. The first cry of a newborn."

The tears flowed freely down your cheeks now.

"Laughter. Crying too, beautiful in its own way."

A heartbroken smile ghosted over your lips.

"Oh, and music... Always music."

You gazed at him, your eyes brimming with loss.

"I miss the music of my world."

He reached out then, slowly, eyes soft, and with the welcome brush of fingertips over your tear-stained cheek...

He reaped you too.


	21. Secret- Jo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on telltale heart by Poe

It wasn't often a person could pinpoint the defining moment of their entire lives before it even happened. In that one respect, at least, you guessed you were lucky. You stood behind the podium and the reporter smirked at you. You couldn't have been more terrified. Even if she had a gun pointed at your heart it would be less painful than what was about to happen.

It had been years since you had last seen Jo, or even spoken to her. You were a different person then, but no one would see it that way. Some things, once done, could never be undone. You had thought you left the ugliness behind you. You had started a family. A career. Now you were running for office.

And here she was, on camera, about to open her mouth and utterly ruin you. Your husband would take your children. Even if you avoided prison you would lose them. Your career was over. Your reputation was shredded. You would be lucky to get a job in a porn shop or selling cigarettes.

She smiled wider and your blood ran cold through your veins, making you shiver. She gripped a photo in her hand. You knew what it was of. She wouldn't even have to say anything, just show the photo to the camera. She held it up facing herself. She began to turn it slowly. You couldn't let this happen. You had to reveal your secret on your terms! You opened your mouth to speak...

...

When it was all over you sat on the edge of the stage, your head in your hands, your husband and children gone, your career over. Your life over. You looked up when she cleared her throat. Jo had the nerve to come over to you now, after she had ruined you. She held THE photo out to you. You took it with a shaking hand. You turned it over slowly, dreading the image on the other side. You had spent years praying this image would never see the light of day and yet here it was, in your hands.

But... It wasn't. You turned the photo over and it was a picture of Jo herself, a smug wink on her face. You looked up at her, tears streaming down your cheeks. She smirked at you and gave you a wink to match the photograph. She turned and walked away.

She had claimed her revenge without uttering a single word.


	22. Hunger- Sam

You woke in the middle of the night, ravenous. Sam was still out with Dean, otherwise he would have been sleeping next to you. Your stomach screamed its hunger. You had to lay still and focus on your breathing for a moment before you could move.

Stumbling into the darkened kitchen, you opened the refrigerator. Literally everything looked delicious. Lunch meat, juice, leftover beef stew, a few pieces of fruit, a whole jar of pickles, a head of lettuce, half a dozen eggs, raw with shell, a jar of mayonnaise, salad dressing, a box of baking soda. You ate it all and you were still starving.

You doubled over, the pangs in your stomach making you want to scream but at the same time taking your breath away so you couldn't utter a sound.

The pantry was next. Half a loaf of bread, chips, crackers, a few uncooked potatoes, coffee grounds, a bag of flour. You lay on the floor of the now-bare pantry and looked at the ceiling, your stomach surprisingly still crying out for sustenance.

Sam returned then. It had been a late night, Dean must have needed extra time with his brother.

"Y/N?" He called, noticing the light from the refrigerator.

You were still too hungry to speak. All you could do was groan in misery. He came into the kitchen, gaping at the aftermath of your feast.

A scent hit you then, like all of your most favorite flavors rolled into one. It was the most delicious thing you had ever smelled. And it made your poor hungry stomach roar.

At first you thought Sam had brought home take-out, a doggy bag, something. Maybe a neighbor was cooking a midnight snack. Whatever it was, it called to you. You couldn't ignore it and you couldn't stay still.

Every other piece of food in the house was an appetizer, a tease in preparation for this meal. This delectable serving of ambrosia. Somehow you knew, this was the one thing that would finally satisfy your hunger.

You went to brush past Sam, disregarding everything in seek of the tantalizing aroma. The drool was dripping from your lips now and you couldn't have cared less. That taste. It was all that mattered.

As you moved past him he caught you around the waist, turned you to look at him. The smell was stronger than ever before. You were prepared to do anything to get to it. To devour it.

"You ok, Y/N?" He asked and brushed his thumb over your cheek.

That's when you knew.

The smell... Was Sam.


	23. Forgotten- Castiel

You were finally ready for visitors. You had woken up a week ago from a brief coma with no memory of your identity or your life. The doctors said you were married, a composer, and you had suffered a nasty fall from a second story window and hit your head rather hard. They said your loving, dedicated husband had brought you in, frantic and terrified, covered in your blood.

But you hadn't wanted to see him, or anyone else, until now. Today you felt ready. Today you had showered, dressed yourself, brushed your teeth. You had the green light to leave the hospital as soon as you felt comfortable doing so. And your nightmares had started to become less debilitating. For most of the past week you woke so distraught they had to drug you to get you to calm down.

The nightmare was always the same, and it was startlingly vivid. You were being held captive in an attic and forced to compose a short piece of repetitive music by your sadistic captor. He would beat you, torture you, starve you, and worse. Terrible things you never wanted to think about again. And the piece he had you compose and play for him over and over and over was so dark and twisted you could barely believe it had come from your mind.

The doctors assured you nightmares after a head injury and coma were totally normal. The trauma and recovery were brutal on the body as well as the mind and sometimes nightmares were the way the subconsciousness dealt with that. They said you shouldn't worry, since the nightmares seemed to have stopped, but they gave you a prescription anyway.

Your husband had evidently come to see you every day since he brought you in, and for the past week he had sat in the lobby for the entirety of visiting hours. The nurses said he was the most kind, gentle, devoted husband they had ever met. You decided you should at least meet him.

He came into your room, looking a little shy. He was adorable, his hair slightly mussed, bright blue eyes so open and honest. Little crooked smile, slightly rumpled suit and coat, and a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He said his name was Cas. After talking for a while you decided to go with him.

He packed you and your belongings into his car and drove to the house, smiling and chatting with you the whole way.

As you pulled up to the house, your blood ran cold.

It had an attic.

And then... he started humming the piece from your nightmares.


	24. Candlelight- Jody

You couldn't believe she was gone. She had been like a mother to you, she fed you, clothed you, gave you tough love when you most needed it. She gave you shelter in the storm and guidance when you were lost. And three days ago, Jody Mills had died.

You sat at your bedroom window, your room illuminated by a single candle. You watched the flickering light and let the tears pour down your cheeks. You wished with all your heart you could see her again, just one more time.

You closed your eyes briefly to dry them and when they opened again, your wish had come true. Inches from you, just outside your window was a white, grinning face. Jody's face.

It would have been almost sweet, one last ghostly visit to say goodbye, if she wasn't very clearly dead. Her skin was stretched tight over her skull, lips shrunk back from teeth giving her an awful grimace. It was almost as if she had been mummified.

And still you didn't scream. Maybe this was a nightmare. Maybe you had gone crazy.

And then, it happened. Something that made you scream until your throat bled.

She opened her eyes.


	25. Whisper- Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Ni_Ni!

"Good girl." He purred. His intense, smug voice clear as a bell even with the harsh music drumming into your head from your earbuds.

He was right. You had always been such a good girl. You had attended church every Sunday, gone to confession as often as you could, read your bible, stayed a virgin. You desperately wanted a tattoo of a crucifix on your shoulder but good girls didn't get tattooed. No, good girls were selfless and pious and did things like invite angels to inhabit their bodies.

You didn't think twice when he came to you. He said he was one of the oldest angels and his name was "Light Bringer". You thought it was beautiful. If you had paid more attention in Latin class, you might have realized. The angel you welcomed into your body... was Lucifer.

He entered your vessel about a month ago, but he didn't count on the strength of your faith. Once you had realized what he wanted from you, you had penned him up in a nice little cell in the back corner of your mind. And from there the only ability he had was to whisper to you.

But, sweet Virgin Mary, was he good at it.

At first it was small things. He convinced you to steal a candy bar. He talked you into getting your navel pierced.

It gradually got worse. And worse.

And now, here you were, doing it again. Oh, God in heaven, not again...

He knew you were doubting. He always knew.

"A little more now, Pumpkin. It's okay. I'm right here." He urged you, his voice like velvet sliding inside your brain.

You pressed just a bit harder, you drew a line, a little swish. An impromptu flourish on your canvas.

"Good girl." He purred. "Don't stop now, Baby. You're doing so good. Lucy's so proud of you." You could almost feel his hand brush against your hip. Shivers of pleasure rushed up and down your spine at his words and his pseudo-touch.

You drew a long, curving line and marveled at the beauty, the contrast of colors.

"Wonderful." He barely whispered, you were sure you could feel his breath, right against your ear. You turned up the volume of your music.

No, your pounding music couldn't drown him out. But it was effective at drowning out the blood-curdling screams of agony and despair you drew from your helpless living canvas, more ragged with each stroke of your gleaming blade.


	26. Cold- John

It was a whirlwind romance. John was so romantic, chivalrous, old-fashioned and charming. He held the door for you, he pulled out your chair, he stood when you entered the room, and he had never touched you inappropriately.

Come to think of it, he hadn't even kissed you yet.

And he put up with your quirky tastes. Like this afternoon, he had obliged one of your obsessions and had taken you to a children's science museum. You were having so much fun!

You had visited the chemistry room, the life science wing, the math station. And now you were running around aimlessly checking out whatever looked interesting. You were just leaving the bubble room, where you had used a wand to make a bubble big enough for the both of you to stand inside. John had playfully popped it and now you were coated in a mist of soapy dew.

You were giggling when you noticed the infrared booth. Before he realized where you were taking him you dragged him inside by his sleeve. You sat on the bench inside the booth and studied yourself on the monitor with fascination. Your nose and fingertips were purple, and the rest of you was a mix of red and yellow. Some parts of your face were white hot.

And then it occurred to you, your boyfriend's image was as purple as your nose. All of him. You slowly glanced over at John, realizing you were sitting next to a stranger.

"Why are you cold?" You asked him bluntly, your brain unable to piece the puzzle together.

He smiled regretfully and kissed your hand gently, his lips like ice. "I really didn't want you to find out this way, Baby... but... now that you know... I'm kind of glad." He grinned a little wider, exposing a pair of wickedly sharp fangs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't canon for SPN vamps, but whatevs. I do what I want!  
> ❤️


	27. Legend- Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For GuardianDemon ❤️

Ever since you were a small child the legend of Castiel sparked your interest. Your friends and siblings were all terrified of the stories. Everyone was. Except for you.

You loved the twisted romance of the tale. An ancient creature, neglected and forgotten, isolated and alone, banished to the deepest levels of the city. He would come above ground once every ten years in search of a mate. He would choose someone and ask them to join him. And when they rejected him, as they all did, he would drag them below for an eternity of torment.

None were ever seen again.

The wives' tales for Reaping Night abounded. Wear a string of garlic, the scent would repel him. Coat your face in dirt, he would turn away from such ugliness. Dress like a man, he preferred women (or vice versa).

As the night approached the people of the city began to go mad with fear. Your friends and siblings were terrified. And you watched it all with a sense of calm detachment.

Even if the legends were true, surely Castiel could not be as bad as they said. Truth be told, you were actually rather fond of the artist depictions of him.

Reaping Night was soon upon you. Everyone shuttered themselves in their homes and refused to open their doors.

Everyone, except you.

You sat by your fire, quietly working on your mending when he came. He knocked politely on your door and when you answered you found him to be unassuming. Perhaps even a bit charming, in a bumbling sort of way.

You invited him in and you shared a tray of tea. The two of you chatted a while and finally your clock struck midnight.

"I have to say, Y/N, your company has been wonderfully refreshing. But I do have to go back home now." He made to stand and you were filled with a blind panic, the thought of never seeing him again making you want to weep.

"Aren't you going to take me with you?" You asked, desperate.

He nodded his sad understanding. "Ah, yes. The legend." He looked into your eyes and you felt like your heart might burst. "The legends have it wrong, Y/N. I do live miles under the city. And I do come above once a decade in search of intelligent company. But I do not proposition anyone. And I do not force them to come with me."

You gazed at him, half confused and half helplessly in love. He sighed wearily. "You need to stay in your home. Please. If you come with me this infatuation will only get worse. You will soon become a mindless slave. I hoped perhaps you would be the one who could resist me. Please, Y/N. For your sake, and mine... let me go."

His words held no meaning for you. You only knew that you couldn't possibly let him go. Not without you.

So you followed him.

...

That night you rubbed his shoulders as the others served him dinner. Miles under the city, totally besotted with your reluctant, heartbroken master.

You counted yourself lucky to be the newest member of his twisted little family.

Your face would never be seen above ground again.

You were his.

Forever.

 


	28. Missing- Gabriel

The disappearances were happening more frequently. The list of the missing grew. Their photographs lined the walls.

The few of you who remained were huddled together in a little house in the middle of nowhere. You barely spoke to each other. You just sipped coffee by the gallon and dreaded the day you would vanish too.

John, Jo and Ellen had been the first. They were missing a week before anyone realized they were gone.

Charlie and Bobby were next. No one saw them disappear, one morning they were just missing.

Then Dean and Sam. Went on a job and never came back. Not a trace of them, no blood, no bodies. Just gone.

And this morning you realized no one had seen Castiel or Crowley in a few days.

So here you were. Chuck, Gabriel and you. Not really living. Just existing, beyond horrified and now just numb... waiting to disappear.

Gabriel finally broke the silence, his voice torn and ragged. "I'm sorry..." he whispered. You and Chuck looked at him.

"What for?" You asked your best friend. You had a really bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

"For everything. Everyone. I just... I'm so tired. I couldn't do it anymore." Gabriel looked down, ashamed.

"What are you talking about, Gabe?" Chuck asked.

"You know how I can create illusions..."

"Wait... all the missing... they were all illusions?" Chuck demanded.

"Not just them..." Gabriel closed his eyes, snapped his fingers and Chuck was gone.

You looked at your best friend, he was devastated and your heart was breaking for him. "How long had they been illusions?"

He finally brought his eyes to yours. He traced his fingers over your face. The way he looked at you... The way he touched you... You abruptly realized, his emotions ran much deeper than just friendship.

You stepped closer to him, forehead on his, your eyes closed tight, and put your hands on his cheeks. "How long, Gabriel..." You whispered.

"...Forever..." He said.

And from the pain in his voice you weren't sure if he was talking about how long they had been illusions... Or how long he had been in love with you.

And then it didn't matter. He snapped his fingers... and you were gone too.

There Gabriel stood, in a shell of his own perfect world, heartbroken and utterly alone.


	29. Bleeding- Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An amazing guest author for this one (yes, my weakness is bleeding to death. Don't judge!) and it turned out beautifully.
> 
> Love you and thank you fromacloset!  
> ❤️❤️❤️

You were on the phone with Dean when you heard him fuss and grunt. Then a thud. “Dean? DEAN?!” you yelled.

Dean remembered a small prick in his neck. Gritting his teeth as something wet trickled down his arm and then he closed his eyes.

 

Dean wondered where he was. He was in bed next to…next to you.

What was this place? Mary was still alive, even John. Sam was married to Jessica.

He blinked a few times.

“Did you hear what I said?” you asked, a little worried.

“Sorry, what?” he said blinking.

“I’m pregnant” you said again, concerned. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Pregnant. With…it’s mine?”

“Yeah.” you smiled.

 

After the thud you and Sam spent days tracking him down. You should never have let him go on this hunt alone.

You walked in and froze at the sight.

There was Dean. The man you loved, but never told. Strung up, his blood being drained from him.

He looked so lifeless.

Sam ran over to him and cut him loose. You knelt beside him as Sam went and killed the Djin

“Djin” he mumbled.

“Shhhh.” You soothed.

“Yo-you were pregnant”

“What? Dean, please. You’ve lost a lot of blood…god-how.” You started to tie rags around his arms; the Djin cut some veins too. You were covered in it.

“Happy pla-place. You’re my happy place. We-we were going-going to have a baby” Blood started to fill his mouth.

You rested your head on his chest. Hearing his heart get slower and slower.

You didn’t care that his arms were sliced open and the blood was pooling on the floor.

It didn’t matter that when you looked up you saw his bag of blood there.

You didn’t care that he kissed the top of your head and his blood was now in your hair.

His heart finally stopped and you were left feeling numb.

You were his happy place. He was bleeding for days and if you had gotten there sooner. Maybe, just maybe it could have been your happy place too.

 

And now it never will.


	30. Beast- Chuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For fromacloset! ❤️

You could barely believe it. This hideous beast, tortured and alone, the creature who had abducted you, held you captive... He had just offered you your freedom.

You could barely believe yourself, considering rejecting his offer. He had saved your life, gifted you many precious things, shown you gentleness and passion, changed his primal ways for you.

And now he was letting you go. But how could you leave him... When you were in love?

He sat on the balcony, gazing out over his massive estate. You came up behind him, sliding your fingers over the warm, thick fur of his forearm. He looked at you, his impossibly blue eyes filled with such longing, such pain. You smiled softly at him.

"You're still here..." He said, his timbre deep enough to turn your bones to jelly. You nuzzled his cheek, reveling in his musky scent and the softness of his warm fur.

"Of course I am. I'm never leaving you again... I love you." You whispered to him.

His eyes caught yours again. "Kiss me..." He said, almost hesitant.

You kissed him passionately, pouring every ounce of your heart into it. And when you pulled away there was a blinding light surrounding him. You saw him begin to change, his fur receding, his fangs becoming regular teeth.

But that was all you noticed before the light entered you. Then the pain.

Your teeth elongated and sharpened, your skin erupted in carpets of fur. Your bones lengthened and your muscles grew massive. By the time the light died down he was a man again, scruffy face, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, disarming smile. And you... Glimpsing yourself in a bit of shattered mirror... You were a beast. Hideous, giant. Slavering mouth, red eyes.

You gazed up at your love. He winced guiltily at you. "Yeah... Sorry about that. So, basically, you stay like this until you get someone to willingly kiss you. Took me about 245 years, but... Maybe you'll have better luck than I did." He patted your shoulder clumsily. "Again... really sorry... Uh... I'm gonna go."

He ended his speech awkwardly, grabbed his cloak, and left you.


	31. Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read this one slowly. And alone. In the dark.  
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>  Posted sunset, the thirtieth of October, two thousand seventeen 
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They're just stories, right? Just stories. Some of them make your skin crawl, some are sad, some kind of amusing. You've just been reading them for fun, that's all.

You couldn't have imagined, not in a million years, they were actually an elaborate ritual. Preparing you. Getting your mind ready. Each one designed to open your perspective a bit wider, for thirty days, until finally, here you sit, ready for me. The thirty-first day. All Hallow's Eve. When the veil is the thinnest.

You've spent a whole month reading about your own demise, about causing pain and death to others, about nameless fears and faceless monsters. You've read them all, every word.

And here you are, still reading. So obedient. Your curiosity is somehow stronger than your instinct for self-preservation. You can't have read this far and not finish. And that's what I'm counting on.

I need you to read just a little more... Just a little. I'm coming now, so close... almost there.

You can almost feel my cool breath on the back of your neck as I come up behind you, not quite touching. My icy, needle-like fingers poised and ready, hovering just above your brain stem.

A shame, really. You've been such a good reader...

 

 

 

 

Don't turn around.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Omg! If you're still reading this, I love you so much! This was a trip and a half and I had so much fun!
> 
> I want to do another, maybe holiday theme in December or love theme in February. Let me know what you think!
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> And if you want to chat or just check out random flights of my fancy, please visit me on Tumblr. I'm sweetie-torment on there.
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> Thanks for coming along for this ride! Love you!
> 
> ❤️ Sweetie ❤️


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